Debts Unpaid Part I
by yashy22m
Summary: Bulma invents a device that works the same as Goku's Instant Transmission.  She uses Vegeta as a test subject but a shortcircuit causes him to travel through a dimension between timespace within he discovers a darker fate waiting to cross his path VB
1. Chapter 1  Bulma's Machine

**Warning:** Though the language is somewhat mild, some of the content on this fic such as strong violence, sex, & even a rape scene are not suitable for younger readers. Read with care!

* * *

**Debts Unpaid**

By: Yashy22m

Part I

Chapter I

Crescent fields streaked with vivid color blossoms, which flourished from the warmth of the burning sun above. The skies were clear, as a chandelier would sparkle upon its guests on a gigantic ballroom's feast. A soft wind rippled through the emerald tinted leaves reaching the open window to Bulma Brief's lab. It blew the short strands of her pale blue hair stroking the side of her cheeks as she closed the glass pane. Birds glided over the horizon giving a sense of tranquility to the cool mild summer air. The day was beautiful. 

She walked back to the brimming desk of mechanical parts and tools. In the center of it all laid her newest invention—something that could be the ultimate scientific breakthrough of all time. At least, she hoped it would be. Its appearance showed that of a regular biker's helmet with long clustered wires dangling on either of its side. But the potential this new device held could be the manipulation of time itself. Time . . . was the key to everything. Inspecting the device, Bulma flipped open a small panel hidden deep inside the helmet's cover revealing the tiny circuitry that engraved the structures of its metal skeleton. She made sure each link functioned properly. After finishing her task, she let out a sigh of exhaustion. She had been slaving away day by day slowly putting together the pieces of a puzzle that were still not clear to her mind's eye yet in her sixth sense she knew exactly what must be done. It was not more the matter of the _how_, but of the why. This simple piece of machinery was made for a far greater purpose than anyone could ever understand.

Kami, when in his pose as the guardian of Chikyuu once had told her, "_There would always be a double layer to everything we see, to everything we do. It's just not visible from plain surface. Things run more complex and meaningful than you'll ever expect. Open your eyes and really "see" what stands before you. Who knows, you'll be surprised at what you'll find._" The words echoed in her mind, almost in sync to the beat blowing against the windowsill like the tempo to a small child's nursery rhyme. Midday winds grew in speed and strength.

But Bulma didn't see, didn't infer anything other than what it was—an old plastic helmet tangled in wiring. Aside that it could transport people to their choice of destination without the passing of time. Well, whatever its real significance, let it actually work, she pleaded. She plugged in the helmet's wiring to the computers' mainframe. Over her head she placed the helmet turning the power knob a few degrees feeling the thrill she received after every device, every machine ever created by her hand stir as it gained power. The helmet's visor lowered itself her view blurring over to shadows. The words "select destination" blinked before her left eye. _Damn! She had forgotten that part_. The computers needed to have a set of coordinates programmed at the same time she was being transported, a task physically impossible unless she could be in two places at once. An idea came to her. Removing the heap of wires from her head, Bulma skidded out the lab in a light jog. She rode down the elevator to the living quarters. Crossing the hall to the gravity room, a small smile began to play on the corner of her lips.

"Oh, Vegeta!" she almost singsong his name as she knocked on the room's entrance. There was no answer only the sound of rampant blasts and the hum of the gravity machine. She banged harder. "I know you can hear me!" Even from the other side of the metal door she could hear the muffled growl emitted from Vegeta's annoyance, as all other sound died out. The metal door slid open to reveal a very irritated and worn-out Vegeta. He crossed his arms over a bare chest, the highly toned muscles deepening the fine lines of his torso. A white shirt lay draped over one shoulder.

"What?" He was already in bad humor and hated disruptions from his training. His tone did not faze her, not one bit.

"I want you to try something for me," she elated with keenness of seeing her creation at work. He stared at her, his brows arching deeper downward.

"This better be important. I am not in the mood for your petty problems," his temper rested on thin threads of ice. Not waiting for another retort, she led him by the arm giddily guiding their way to the lab. Once there, Bulma began untangling the mess of wiring on the helmet.

She extended the helmet to Vegeta, who just eyed it quizzically. "Here, put this on. It's a transport device that will send you to any place you want to be in an instant. I want you to see how it works."

"I'm not your damn guinea pig, _woman,_" his voice was pure ice.

"It's just for a sec—"

"Is it your means to tell me that you interrupt my training, training that could be of use to surpassing Kakarott's strength, all for the test of headwear! This is a waste of my time!" He began for the door.

"Wait! I can send you back to the gravity room and there won't be any more interruptions from your training. Just this one try, _please_," Bulma held her breath.

"I can get there myself." Distant chatter ascended from below their feet followed by hollow steps. It became louder trailing nearer and nearer until their ruckus reached outside the lab's door. Her parents had taken their son, Trunks, out for the day and were now audibly home much to the greater distress of Vegeta. He opened the door seeing Mrs. Brief dart straight in his direction. He cursed under his breath. There was no force in hell that would make him cross paths with _that_. The blond Chikyuu-jin woman was nearly impossible to get rid of. He still wondered how in all creation could someone as ingenious and agile minded as Bulma could share kinship to someone so…eccentric. "Fine, I will try your stupid machine but only if you send me straight to the gravity room." He locked the door behind him. Bulma held back a laugh. She knew how much Vegeta hated to associate with her parents, especially her ditzy mother.

"Alright," she motioned for him to step closer. Placing the helmet over his head, she turned the knob to its right settings as the visor closed for a second time. She entered a few coordinates into the computer. Seconds later, surging burst of light surrounded Vegeta's body radiating into visible waves of power. The image where Vegeta stood faded into nothingness. _He'd disappeared faster than a blink of an eye._

Before his eyes, Vegeta saw the outlines of the gravity room blur into focus. He was no longer in the confinement of the lab. Over his head, the helmet lay glued to his scalp softly beeping by the side of his ear, its course finished. _Now, how did he turn off this thing? _The helmet began to beep more constantly, louder and harder than before. Vegeta felt his high sensitive ears throbbing almost as if wanting to explode. His hands rose over his ears as he let escape, a piercing cry of agony. Again, surging waves of power surrounded his form. The beeps stopped. The lab's pale steel walls encircled him once more. _What the…?_

She raised the helmet's visor. "Did you reach the gravity room? It took several minutes to bring you back. I was staring to think something had gone wrong."

Vegeta felt dazed from the swirl ride. After a moment he answered, "Minutes? I was only gone for a few seconds until your stupid gadget started going wild." _Damn, his ears were still ringing._ He removed the helmet rubbing the side of his head.

"What do you mean?"

"About what?" He noticed his shirt still rested over his shoulder; he pulled it on.

"You just said you were in the gravity room for a few seconds. Vegeta, look at the clock! It's been five minutes since I sent you over there." He arched his neck around to the old mahogany clock that hung from the far wall of the lab. It struck 12 past two. _**Five minutes! **_

"How—there's no way…" Vegeta stood muffled. The transport had been a quick swift ride, almost as quick as he moved against the speed of light combating with those opponents who were fast enough to keep his pace. If it weren't for the fact that he'd seen the gravity room with his own eyes, he would've not believed he was even there. Then, how could five minutes have passed by? Bulma reevaluated the coordinates to the transporting helmet.

"Why would the time while you were transported be slower than the actual time here?" _Strange_ . . . she covered Vegeta's head with the helmet.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing? I'm through being your lab rat." Ignoring his protest, she lowered the visor and turned the knob before he could remove the plastic from his head. She removed her watch strapping it quickly onto his wrist. Waves of power surrounded his body. But a sudden spark trailed from the tip of the wires. They began to sizzle, conducting small volts of electricity at the head of the computer. Electrical charges made their way through the wiring, releasing burst of sparks around the helmet head. Bulma shrieked in horror, the terrifying stench of burnt plastic swelling around her.

He felt a sharp volt of pain flood through his skull. The feeling spread over his entire body making its way over to every layer of vein, bone, and muscle within his skin. His body wouldn't budge. He'd gone numb losing all sense of feel, touch, and smell, unaware of where he was and how long he'd been lying stagnant. Excluding the sharp inner pain, sensitivity was gone. The air lay hollow, silent, and undisturbed. Overwhelmed in pain heaved him to unconsciousness.

- - - - - - -

Thundering bursts of energy filled the night air seeming to rise above all other sound. The skies flashed bright with blinding lights as more explosions erupted from the city square. High piercing shrieks echoed throughout the chaos of the town's people scrambling away from the immense forces ripping and tearing everything to shreds. Flesh, blood, and debris mixed in one among the dusted char grounds. Work of unmerciful, ruthless killing machines—the hands of warriors sent in to blow everything in sight knowing only one thing, _**destruction**__. They kill every being, every organism that stood in their path until it reached to the bottom, until what stood remained motionless and blunt as if it had never been._

_A few that remained clustered behind the half granite wall that still stood mighty and strong despite its wrecked surroundings. Fear was the one dominant feature present on their grime-smeared faces. The remaining two men stood protectively over the woman and child spared from the upcoming devastation. For their short refuge was numbered. One lone soldier wandered the deserted field meters from the group's hideout sniffing out his prey. He was a towering of a man, a dark brown beard framing his hard-set face. The peak of his hair stood high giving more to his greater height. The dents on his worn armor told the tale of a thousand battles, his cape lashed out behind him giving impression of his nobility, high of a monarch. He crept passed the stoned wall, their existence undetected. The mother clutched her young boy tighter releasing a short sigh of relief. It was enough to alarm the neared soldier. With a powering blast, the large man disintegrated the remaining rubbish leaving the sought group out in the open. This had caught the attention of the rest of his men. Cornered, the group held what they knew would be their last breaths. The man who'd exposed them—evidently the squad's leader gave a final order. A lower soldier stepped forward, yanking the young boy out from the shrieking mother's arms. She pleaded for her son's life to be spared not hearing any other sound. One soldier kicked her in the stomach, sending her down to her knees in vain. Raising her head, upon the cape's shield of the leader, she saw something so out of place among these savages—a child, even younger than her own. A mirror image of the man that towered over him, his small face carved identically to his, obviously the man's kin. He looked back with a cold glare. So much hate, so young . . . her heart ached for him. The older man raised his palm, a ball of energy awaiting its target. The world before her flashed in a vast heated wave. In a split second, along with the other two remaining men they crumbled to ash. The young boy let out a heart-piercing wail thrusting his arms and legs at the man who held him captive. He then became notice of the smaller child. They locked eyes both with piercing stares that told more than what could be said. An adversary at first sight. A crushing blow fell upon the boy's head knocking him out cold. The smaller boy only looked on, unfazed to all._

_- - - - - - - - - _

The sharp agonizing pain had left his body remaining a numbing throb to his temples. Smooth pools of serene coolness overcame him. Vegeta rose himself to a sitting position his elbows propelling him up in support. Feeling began to pour into his body as he took in the scene around him. It was pitch-black, except for a dim glow outlining the eerie shadows from the planks stacked overhead. Where the hell was he? Vegeta took in a deep steady breath, his lungs filling with thick soggy air. His view adjusted to the darkened space. It appeared he'd been stored in a crawlspace of some sort. No, it was a type of draining pipe. He'd been laying in a puddle of . . . mud! Water poured into the sewage line leaking from the open holes between the metal planks. The water level began to rise. In a matter of minutes, it swelled high enough to reach his waist. He stood weakly panic stirring form within him. There were no openings large enough for him to squeeze through only small round drains on the side of the pipeline. They were shut tight. He swung over his head striking at the planks above him. The pipeline was already flooded over his shoulders as the water flow increased. The planks stood hard as stones not budging to the blows Vegeta struck at them. He felt his strength drained. Repeatedly, he struck the planks, the rising water covering his chin. Vegeta noticed a small crack not dispensing any water. As close as he could get, he took sharp quick breaths before the water reached over his head and engulfed him deep underneath his watery grave.

He could hold his breath long enough for him to escape unfortunate circumstances, which had left him a blink away from ghastly deaths. In a slow torturous gasp for breath, Vegeta waited, waited until he no longer needed that breath. His fingers gripped between the openings on one of the planks. He wasn't afraid to die, had come close to it many times not to have been. In fact, he had even experienced it at one point. But he had preferred it to be on the battlefield, profound in the course of combat where his lust for battle ran thicker than blood. Dying in honor, not this, slow slithering demise. His thoughts ran together as one, slipping away in a light daze as his lungs pleaded for breath.

One thought, he saw clear and dazzling—Bulma.

With all his might, he thrust the hinges off the metal planks forward. They shot through the streaming water and landed with a large clunk. Vegeta lifted himself out of the pipeline and onto dry ground, panting, his lungs inhaling the cool scent of sweet air. He rolled onto his knees smirking in relief. The roaring of the water stream had gone silent. He raised his head staring at his surroundings. He looked over to where the pipeline had been, and saw—it was gone. So too was the streaming water, which had almost granted his end just moments before. Nothingness surrounded him only a dim glow that illuminated a dark endless walkway. The ground reflected a pool in waves of murky water though the ground remained solid.

Footsteps echoed through the bass emptiness. It'd stopped some place behind him. He turned to see a large aquatic creature standing over his kneeling form. Large pale green fins swung at its sides. They did not move, waiting for either one to make the first beat, a signal to strike. Beneath Vegeta's stomach, a beam of Ki laid readied in his hand. A water drop echoed in the distant silence. In the same instant, Vegeta threw the burning burst of Ki at the luring creature. It dodged snapping its sharp fangs where Vegeta laid. He rolled onto his back, and levitated off to the side of the creature's jaw. He threw another blast. The creature dodged again, swigging its tail inches passed Vegeta's head as he too dodged the coming assault. Jumping a few steps back, Vegeta readied a large blast at the tip of his hands aiming his palms outward preparing to send the vexing sea creature into dust. The alarmed creature lashed out its tail at Vegeta's side. Vegeta leaped over the tail, Ki still in hand. One giant fin struck him from behind sailing him over the path of the creature's opened mouth. Right siding himself, he kicked the creature's jaw chattering its mouth closed. It let out a cacophonous snarl, holding its jaw on both sides, its nostrils flaring in anger. He shot a final blast, point-blank at the creature's belly. Before the blast made impact, the creature vanished into the dark void.

"You fight rather impressive, for a mortal," its voice seemed everywhere at once though its presence was untraceable. "Usually with the snap of the chops and they're lunch meat." It appeared before Vegeta taking the form of man. A set of gills remained at the side of his neck fluttering with each word. He beckoned with a wave of his hand. The lining of the ground wavered until it shattered into shards dropping down the dark space below their feet. No sound perceived as everything around him cracked to tiny pieces sinking down as if being absorbed by a giant vacuum. Vegeta could almost hear the sound of breaking glass. He wasn't floating but more in suspension, hanging in the middle of nothing. It was becoming harder for him to breathe, as he became aware of his changed surroundings. There was very little air.

"Who are…what are, y-you?" Vegeta felt short of breath.

The gills had disappeared. The man had short choppy dark brown hair, which lay limply on the back of his neck giving him the impression of a young man. But the deep-set lines on his features told he was much older in his time.

"Well, it's kind of hard to explain who I am. But I'm known as Maijuh. I keep track of the walkway to every mortal's fate. Or at least it's something of that notion. Like I said, it's kind of hard to explain . . ." He noticed Vegeta was having difficulty breathing, he was panting heavily. "Are you alright?"

Vegeta tried answering gasping for air, but the lack of oxygen was making him feel as if he were choking. Maijuh still couldn't figure out what was wrong with him.

"Uh."

Vegeta began making gagging noises.

"**OH**! How could I forget you still have to breathe?" Maijuh waved his hand sprinkling thousands of air particles all around them. Finally, Vegeta breathed easier.

"What . . . what the hell is this place?" Vegeta spun around to hit the face of a giant clock.

There were endless rows of clocks suspended in midair, the handles slowly rotating to the time of eternity's flow. "Well, you're in a time-space continuum. It's a gap between the planes of your world's time sequence and its reality." They lowered to a transparent glass floor, the ticking of the clocks echoing in the background. A wooden desk appeared before them, stacked in piles of paper. Maijuh fished through one of the stacks losing interest on Vegeta's presence. Vegeta scowled at him in puzzlement. Time continuum?

"Explain yourself, now!" He threatened with a waving fist.

"Demanding, aren't we?"

Vegeta gave him a death stare grunting in annoyance. Maijuh ignored the gesture and continued looking over the pile. It only angered Vegeta even more. **No one** ignored the Saiyan no Oji.

"Demanding! I can show you what demanding is!" He slammed his fist on the polished surface—a tad harder than he intended as the wood buckled beneath the blow. His fist caught in the splintered desk, he summoned his Ki preparing to disintegrate it. But something was wrong. He couldn't reach it, the place where his Ki rested. The center of his inner strength, which had become almost second natured to him, it was gone. His Ki was gone. He masked the thought away for the moment. Vegeta decided to smash the wreckage onto the neighboring clocks. The mass piles of papers scattered about vanishing to the touch of the glass floor. A chunk of wood remained on his fist. He slammed it onto the ground, hard, forming a large angry crack beneath them.

Maijuh shook his head slightly. Mortals—they're so temperamental. His tone calmed, "Alright, I'll explain if you would not break any more of my furniture. Please, sit." A metal chair appeared behind Vegeta.

He crossed his arms over his chest, "I'll stand."

Maijuh raised his hands in truce, "Ok, you know when you experience déjà vu. It feels like you've already seen or heard something before but you know for a fact you never have. There are certain points where the planes between your world and this world meet. By walking through these points, you're walking through a continuum of time, which could make you go back in time for a few seconds. In truth, you really are experiencing it over again or something similar to what you experienced. The experience never stays the same."

"So, what you're saying is, we constantly travel back in time and we don't even realize it?" Vegeta gradually sat down as he let the depth of his words sink in. Bulma's machine, that contraption had skipped him forward through time not backwards. It made no sense unless…

"Well, yes, if you put it that way. It doesn't happen very often."

"Then how would I tell the difference from something that's really happening from something that already happened before?" One of the giant clocks collided with the back of the metal chair. Vegeta knocked it out of his way.

"That's where I come in. Because of the crossing points between the planes, there's a possibility someone might get **stuck** in these points making them repeat a few moments of time over and over again. It's the worse thing to be stuck reliving the past and the present forever. But I make sure that doesn't happen. Another plane exists in conjunction to the time sequence—the plane of reality. After returning to your original time, reality sets in. You would feel the difference right away. Along with it, fate sets in as well." Maijuh pushed away a wandering clock heading in his direction. "The actions we do, the decisions we make. They all lead to what is destined to be our fate. There are endless possibilities to what our fate might be. A mortal's life is planned out from the day he is given birth. It has different routes and outcomes depending on the path they take. But once a path is chosen, there's no guarantee there's a way out. Certain paths, no matter how hard you try and change them, it leads to the same outcome." Maijuh stared decisively for Vegeta's next reaction. Then and there, he would make a pact with him.

Upon searching through the records of Vegeta's past, Maijuh had made an unpleasant discovery—the outcome of his fate. It was known for greater accounts that the man was no saint. Vegeta had destroyed infinite worlds around the galaxy, eliminating them to a point that what lingered was a speck of dust drifting in the wroth of space. The innumerable amounts of lives slaughtered in one swift strike all by the feat of his hands alone. And this appalling course of deeds done before he'd even reached the stage of manhood.

And yet, it wasn't all of his choosing.

In the realm of Vegeta-sei, from the day a Saiyan infant took its first breath, they were taught nothing but to fight and kill. To a Saiyan, strength was everything. Their violent overpowering nature had always been the base of their ideology. Imperialism had great influence in most parts of its galactic system. As Vegeta-sei conquered its way across the galaxy, another world even more bloodthirsty roamed in the crossfire, the Ice World— Aisu-sei.

Its ruler was an extremely powerful tyrant known as Frieza. By the sheer use of brute strength and a twisted delight for malicious mockery and cruelty, he swayed over half the galaxy in his control, casting terror and mayhem in just the mentioning of his name. The Saiya-jins and their way of life had sparked an interest to Frieza's hunger for power—more specifically a certain Saiyan prince. But fear of being overpowered brought the Saiyan race to their well-deserved misfortune. Frieza destroyed Vegeta-sei along with all its inhabitants. Vegeta and a very few others of his kind remained. For most of his life, he served Frieza as one of his mercenaries.

"I have seen the outcome of what is to become of you. A dark eternal road leading to a bottomless pit of anguish and despair so crucial the essence of your being cannot withstand the course of its damnation. Forget about dignity. Forget about your pride. It will be stripped from your core only to be left to become another soul of the damned."

Something in Maijuh's words, Vegeta couldn't oppose to. He couldn't even bring himself to think on what to say next. He leaned back on the metal chair causing it to creak against his weight. A thousand images peeked to the surface, many of which were old memories from his past life he had buried long ago. They had always haunted him even throughout his youth. As time resumed, he'd learned to conceal them to cope with the inexplicable stench of death and devastation that had clouded over most of his existence.

He'd never cared before . . . the endless faces, the burnt odor of rubble and gore. Why now? After so long, why did it matter now? He swallowed, hard. His insides went numb.

"There is a possible alternative. I shouldn't be saying this but soon you'll meet one of the strongest of foes. It'll take many efforts and sacrifices to bring down this particular creature. What you make them to be will be entirely up to you. But you'll have to make an important choice. How big a sacrifice are you willing to make in order to win?" Maijuh grabbed a clock from the air and began winding it.

Vegeta thought for a moment. If it's me the Kais want to yield, I've already done that. It's not like it made a difference. "What kind of sacrifice?"

"Well, it involves, a life," he said hesitantly.

"But Yemma said it wasn't necessary for me to—"

"I wasn't talking about yours," Maijuh answered vaguely.

Vegeta rose from his chair knocking it over with great force. He narrowed his eyes and asked in a low deadly tone, "Who?" It'd better not be who I think it is.

"I knew this was a bad idea. I've revealed too much. I don't know. I don't know anything. I should—"

Vegeta grabbed him by the collar. "Who is it?"

"I can't tell you that. You'll have to decide on your own."

Vegeta placed both hands around his neck. "You brought me into this Kami forsaken nut hole. You're the one that started this little game." He tightened his grip on his neck, "And now you're going to finish it."

"Are you always this moody?" The aquatic man declared unfazed by the Saiyan's threat.

Vegeta grunted in frustration tossing the aquatic man into the rows of clocks causing them to tumble like an alignment of dominoes. He'd planned on blasting the man to smithereens, but the world's plane was having some kind of effect on his Ki. He felt a sudden chill, which brought him to unease.

Maijuh rose from the piles of clocks, unharmed. "Look. I honestly can't say whose life is going to be sacrificed. All I can say is that whoever is chosen, there's a price to pay. It's either a new beginning or the end for us all."

"Bastard," Vegeta fumed crossing his arms over his chest.

"Ah, um, there is one more thing you must do or in this case mustn't do. No matter what, you're not allowed to kill anyone and I mean ANYONE even if they're evil."

"What!? Are you kidding me? You want me to not kill? That's like telling me not to breathe. Besides, if the occasion calls for it, then a kill must be made."

"If you want your slate to stay cleared, it's the only way."

Vegeta let out a derisive laugh, "I guess I'm screwed, then."

Maijuh materialized a miniature hourglass, "No need to rush into any decisions now. I'll give you some time to think. Once you digest all this, you'll have a better perspective on things."

An eerie fog spread across Vegeta's vision. The thousands of clocks, the glass floor along with Maijuh vanished into nothing but darkness.

"That's impossible! Out of necessity even that goody-goody baka, Kakarott has been forced to kill before."

"Sorry, time's up." Maijuh's voice echoed in the darkness.

"Hey, wait!" Suddenly, Vegeta blackouts completely, dropping down the dark void in a slow senseless blur.

- - - -

He lay in a weary mist of confusion lost to a haze of irrational thought and mystery. Everything was dark as far as the eye could see. Beneath his eyelids, streaks of light threaten to break through the dimness causing his eyes to sting. A soft hum vibrated throughout his eardrums. Something began stirring him, the humming converting into a gentle voice. There was a slight plea in its tone. What was the voice saying? He couldn't comprehend the voice's words. The gentlest of touches stroked the side of his face. Fingertips sent tingling warmth beneath his skin. The touch, the voice . . . he had heard it somewhere, had felt those hands before. Recognition settled in. Vegeta sat up gasping for air. He took in short quick breaths, his chest heaving in pain.

"Oh, thank goodness, you're alright!" There, leaning over him stood Bulma, a worried expression on her face. He then realized he was lying on their bed.

"W-What . . . ?" Vegeta rose to his feet only to stumble forward. Luckily, several arms broke his fall. "Oh," a sharp inner pain throbbed at his temples making him a bit light-headed.

"Take it easy. You took quite a shock. The wires to the helmet must have gotten crossed somehow. It nearly blackout the whole compound." Bulma helped steady his teetering form.

On his other side, Trunks helped him down on the bed. He barely felt the shift in positions as his cognizance whirl-pooled in chaos throughout his brain. When did he get here?

"Yeah, dad, you should have seen it. All the light bulbs burst and a shower of sparks began to fall. It looked like a bunch of fireworks had been set off. It was awesome!" The lavender headed boy bounced animatedly over the recalling of the tale.

What had happened? That place, was it real or was it all a dream? Vegeta felt the sudden throbbing in his head intensify to violent sharp stabs of pain. He rubbed at his temples trying to sooth down his ache.

"What's wrong? Is it your head? Does it hurt? Honey, can you go get me a wet cloth?" Bulma began fussing over him, noticing the burn marks on both sides of his face and hands.

"Sure, mom." Trunks went for the door stopping in mid stride at Vegeta's sudden outburst.

"NO! I'm fine! I don't need your aid. I've been hurt worst than this before. It is nothing. I feel fine." Vegeta freed himself from Bulma's grasp clumsily making his way to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him leaving them in bewilderment.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Finishing a relaxing shower, Vegeta dragged himself to the bed not bothering to clothe. After drying off the sprinkles of water left in his hair, he tied a damped towel around his waist. He still had a splitting headache, the size of Kakarott's appetite. Something strange was beginning to surface at the tip of his senses. Ever since the strange incident with that aquatic creature, an eerie feeling had crept over his spine. He couldn't shake the plight the creature had revealed. The logical side of him refused to believe him, not accepting the fact that he really had no control over his fate, and that everything had been planned out since his beginning. But then . . . there was something in his words that made him see an indubitable truth. Something dreadful was coming and its arrival crept nearer. He sat at the edge of the bed lost in thought, unaware of the presence, which entered the room. Slim arms encircled his shoulders.

"Careful, think too hard and you might get wrinkles." Bulma gave him a peck on his frowning forehead knowing very well that Saiyans aged much slower than Earthlings did.

"Humph! I highly doubt it." Vegeta rolled onto his side of the bed. Bulma lay beside him resting her head on his chest. She began tracing the lines of his bare abdomen, his skin tingling by her caress.

"Bulma," he hoarse softly dozing off to a languorous state.

"Hmm?"

"Where did that machine of yours send me off to?"

She eyed him strangely. "That "machine" never sent you anywhere. After the explosion, the computer short-circuited and you were out cold for quite some time. I was scared half to death." She felt him tense up under her touch. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine!" Anger began forming within him. Whether it was from the sympathy reflecting in her sapphire stare, her conviction for his brief brush of madness, or his disbelief for the wand of mystical paranoia, he couldn't decipher which irked him more. He didn't need her worrying over him.

"Positive?"

"Quit your pestering, woman. I don't need you fussing over me as if I were a helpless child," he snapped.

"Well, excuse me! Next time you stop breathing, give your damn self CPR." She sat up and turned away from him muttering, "Ungrateful prick," under her breath.

"What was that?" he said baiting at her anger his lips quirked up in a smirk.

"You heard me!"

He stopped, staring at her for a moment. Even after all these years, her beauty remained preserved like a blooming flower captured in a cryogenic state just as he remembered the first day he laid eyes on her. Observing the curves of her figure, the shifting features on her pleasingly esthetic face, he noticed the light tone of her skin, which contrasted with the slight blush on her puffing cheeks that rose from her anger. From the corner of her eyes, Bulma met Vegeta's stare. There, he saw the fire in her blue orbs. It intrigued him, melting away his anger.

On second thought, maybe he had been hallucinating. Maybe that electrical shock had altered his brainwaves and created his imagination's flight. However, its nightmarishly haunting reality was too great to ignore. Maybe . . . he needed relief from his thoughts. An exhilarating sensation dispersed throughout his veins. A corner of his lips faintly curled upward. He untied the towel wrapped around him, draping it around her waist. Vegeta lured her from behind molding her tight against his body.

"Is there a way to pay my debt to you?" he whispered huskily into her ear, descending upon her neck with a trail of kisses.

"Don't!" Bulma pushed him away. It only made Vegeta tighten his hold on her but not enough to harm her. He continued down her shoulder encountering the vexing straps of her nightgown, which he pushed aside with his hand. It wasn't until he began down her back that she gave in to his little seduction. Again, the nightgown blocked his path. Vegeta reached underneath the gown, tracing the curves of her body as he pulled it over her head and discarded it onto the floor. Along went all other clothing as well as the damp towel he had wrapped around her waist. She leaned against him, feeling her heart skip a few tones as his hands traced their way up to the swell of her breasts. She shivered in delighted pleasure as he gently caressed her breasts and nipped at her earlobe. Each touch ignited a scorching surge of heat.

Barely fighting off her lust, Bulma gasped out, "They'll hear us," her breath hitched in her throat. She pulled away from him, reaching for the slightly ajar door. Vegeta could not contain himself. The growing need for her escalated shunning out all humane thought and reasoning he possessed. Driven only by his impulses, he roughly shoved her fragile body back against the door slamming it shut. Bulma squealed in surprise. He turned her to face him, kissing her feverishly at the crook of her neck lowering to the base of her throat. With a jerk of his knee, he spread her legs apart driving into her with maddening ferocity. He meant to take her with slow sweet strokes but the luscious taste of her soft skin, the rushing fervor building up inside him pushed him to the edge. Having no control, Vegeta thrust harder into her, increasing his speed with each rising scream emitting from her ecstasy. He moaned against her neck holding back a stirring cry threatening to break from his lips. He wanted more, needing to reach even deeper still. Lifting her off the door, he carried her back to the bed having better access to his need . . . penetrating deeper and harder within her. Bulma clung helplessly onto his broad back, her nails piercing into his tender flesh as a mixture of pleasure and pain overwhelmed her. Her pulse raced to the rhythm of a beating drum. She screamed out his name, arching her back as she drew closer and closer to the pinnacle of her climax.

Vegeta felt his own intensity of pleasure burst to its breaking point. He gave a hoarse cry, feeling his release erupt almost contiguously with hers. All his worries, doubts, and fears exceeded from his mind leaving only the feel of her being, the warm fulfillment of her essence consuming his very core. He continued to move within her slow and gentle, calming down his ragged breath detaining himself from ravishing her like a savage beast almost as he had moments earlier. Their ardor amplified to its brim, creating a vicious cycle of passion, which never seemed to exhaust until the dark lit room brighten from the break of day. Bulma collapsed beneath him a final time fatigue overtaking her aching body. She had surrendered everything to him, heart, body, mind, and soul. Yet, he still hesitated. He had pushed her limits, he knew, but was taken aback at the sudden stamina that had ceaselessly met up to satisfy his lustful demands and more . . .

It still awed him that someone so frail with scarcely any physical strength could subdue him in such a way that she had become more of a necessity than a simple pleasure of the flesh. Though the lust and solitude, which condemned him long ago, had been the reason for their tryst, their constant need for each other sprung forth an unbreakable bond. A bondage he thought was incapable of manifesting within him. Vegeta had scorned it then. Thinking the foreign emotions of affection, of his heart's ease from anger and hatred made him impotent to fight. That it would leave him vulnerable to the countless foes waiting to seek their vengeance upon him. He dreaded to think of his vulnerability to retaliation. A burdening weakness. He drew away from the softened feelings that began to squander his stone cold heart only to find he had left her in conception. The woman and child yield him in conflict with his warrior's code, his Saiyan heritage.

Protect that in which belongs to thee.

They were a distraction from his prime objective of surpassing his archrival, Kakarott, of being the strongest in the universe. Nevertheless, the greater accounts of his honor and pride lured him back to her side, the indiscernible fondness taking its toll. After pushing himself to the breaking point going beyond his limitations, he found he could not succeed in what had turned into an obsession over being the best. It didn't matter to her because in her eyes all the strength, all the powers of the world meant nothing compare to him simply being.

The lids of Bulma's eyes opened and closed wearily giving him a sleepy smile. She stroked his cheeks kissing the burn marks as if her touch were a remedy for his wounds. And in a way, they were. They were his remedy.

"Never . . . leave," she murmured incoherently, her voice fading in sleep.

Vegeta brushed the blue locks from her eyes clutching her hands off his face. "Never leave," he echoed nestling on her sleeping form.

Was he a fool to dwell on such things? The thought of her life in peril brought forth an intolerable course of fear. He had lost her once before during the plight of Majin Buu conjured up by that malign wizard Babidi. The dually destructive pair had been their reconciliation as well as their distress. For he had given up his soul to return to his wicked ways to free himself of all the conflicting emotions spiraling within because he had known no other way of being—cruel and ruthless. Vegeta tried to be rid of her and the peacefulness settling along his sentiments only to discover that his old ways were no longer his desires. It was the guilt, which finally broke him down. Regret of throwing everything away, everything he had built since settling on this Earth. Ever since he'd escaped Frieza's clasp being able to live his own life recreating the nearly extinct Saiyan race. He sacrificed his life in an attempt to bring down Majin Buu and made amends for his selfishness. That was nearly 5 years ago, yet the taste of its reminiscence lingered as if it had recently transpired. Things were different now…better, passive even.

Vegeta let drowsiness cloud over his thoughts as the warmth and comfort engulfed him into the world of slumber. The sun rose in greeting to a new day. He'll be damned if he ever had to render her now.

* * *

DBZ (c) Akira Toriyama

Maijuh (c) Yashy M.


	2. Chapter 2 Kumori's Delusions

**Warning:** Though the language is somewhat mild, some of the content on this fic such as strong violence, sex, & even a rape scene are not suitable for younger readers. Read with care!

* * *

**Debts Unpaid**

By: Yashy22m

Part I

Chapter 2

_Heavy loads of smoke rose into the night air. Dead silence were the only words heard through the imprisoned chamber. The gust of nightfall poured through the caged window. The young boy sat curled up in the corner of the dark cold cell rocking back and forth in the course of shock. He could not grieve for his homeworld. He couldn't even grieve for his own mother, who he had seen stripped out of her existence right before his very eyes like she was nothing but a pile of waste, not even worth dirt. He felt a deep hollow space inside his chest where his heart laid. It constricted against his ribcage. How high this immensity of ache it held, and he could not even grieve. He could only uphold its contents as it rioted to break free from its restrains. _

_A trail of blood trickled down the side of his temple. How long had he been out cold? An eternity it seemed. It had come to his surprise that the Saiyan mercenaries had not finished him off just like the others. They usually showed mercy to no one. A thick fog, which laid over the tunnel to his thoughts lifted, giving him the perception of his whereabouts. He could vaguely remember the last few moments before the tragic abolition of his homeworld along with his people, the Shadou-jins. The young Shadou-jin merely stared in a numbing stupor feeling as if the scene before him were a surreal panorama in a fruitless dream. He stood watching his world go up in a searing ball of fire and disappear into the dark empty void of space as if it had never been. It was all he could do not to lose his sanity altogether, just stare. A shrill sound outside his cell alerted him from his trance. The door slid open to reveal a heavily built guard, his tail swaying impatiently from side to side. Were all these Saiyans this gigantic? He drew his knees closer to his chest edging as far away from the guard as he could. The Saiya-jins had held him captive in their ship for the pass few months, having contact with no other life form except for the occasional sliding of a tray of food disposed from one of the guards. This time, the guard held no offerings. On rare occasions where he lost grip with reality, the guard struck him down for the involuntary shrieks that erupted from him when the surrealism of his disposition lost its illusion and hit him with the cold hard truth. He was the last of his kind, a prisoner bearing with the thought that he could be put to death at any given moment. Everything he had known, everyone he'd loved…gone forever. The hefty guard grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the cell through a deserted corridor. He could hear the voices of the other soldiers buzzing about the spaceport taking leave to the palace grounds. _

_The next moments were a blur. After entering the palace and passing through a maze of corridors, the guard dropped him at the base of a throne kneeing before his top peer of the realm. He looked up. There sat the man who had murdered his mother, the King of Vegeta-sei—the heart of the Saiyans' world. His blood boiled with rage. The man began to speak but his words were lost to the sudden buzz in his ears. The young boy raised his fists riled up to charge at the much larger man in front of him. He could care less whether he lived or died. He lunged forward in vain, as the guard struck him from the rear bringing him down to weakened knees. _

"_A wildcat," said a voice beside the throne. He hadn't taken note of the horned white creature that had been standing there gazing at him in mild amusement. An intense course of power plunge his senses like a tidal wave. _

"_This one's got the warrior's spirit in his eyes," remarked his mother's killer. "He's from the rebel world of the Shadou. I hear his people had the ability to manipulate rays of light into a short form of invisibility. Not many converted to warriors, but if training and disciplined in the right direction, the boy's strength could peak just shy of an Elite's. His talents may be of some use to your liege."_

_The creature exuded irritably, "I am well aware of the Shadou-jins' capabilities," he added as an afterthought, "'had' the ability?" _

"_Let's just say he's up to one of his kind." _

_The lizard-like creature rubbed at his chin scanning the boy's power level with the small contraption covering his left eye. He had seen it before, a scouter. They all wore it over one eye, except when not in combat. _

_A dark malicious smile swelled across the ashen creature's face making him shudder under his crude stare. "Very well, I'll take your offering, for now. I do believe talent should not be latent into waste. Speaking of talents, we will discuss the matters of the little Prince's services in our next visit." The Saiyan King bowed in reply taking his leave of the throne room. "Tell me, little one, what is your name?" he stooped before the young boy inspecting him further._

_"Ku—Kumori," he stuttered all trail of his latter fury dissipating. _

"_It is a privilege and an honor to be part of the best band of fighters in this whole region of the galaxy, if you can prove yourself worthy enough to survive my regiment. I, Lord Frieza will be your master. You will serve me in any way necessary that suits your capabilities. If you do not measure up to the tasks given to you, then well…I suggest you fulfill your purpose if you do not seek your own death. In exchange for your life and atone the sins of your forefathers, pledge to me your loyalty and serve my cause as the supreme ruler of the galactic system." He paused, letting his words trail for the boy to grasp. "What is thy choice?" _

_Ha! As if, he had a choice! It was either submit to or die by the hands of this twisted creature. The cage to his anguish and despair churned within him calling forth the darkest pits of his mind. Death shone the lightest of this transaction. Despite all the devastation and suffering he'd endured, something inside him refused to simply turn over and die. He saw his father's pale sweat-filled face, laying stiffly on what later became his deathbed. The words whispered by his father's last breaths recited in his ears. "We have fought long and hard to keep peace in this land without the corruptions of the outer worlds. Their threshold will soon overwhelm us. In the face of the obstacles and challenges that will overcome you, never forget your origins, your people…and most importantly never forget who you are. One of the strongest of our sons, fight for your people; honor them, avenge for them, live on in the hopes that one day your name be carried on in the dignity and glory of your Shadou-jin blood."_

_Live on…avenge, oh father, he was not ready for such a task._

_There was one thing he still could do and though it would take many great efforts and commitment, he would not let his father down. He would live…for as long as deem possible and carry on the name of the Kuragari clan until every aspect of his father's charge were fulfilled until all that was lost be restored. _

_A rootless undertone whisked his ears overriding his father's plea, "A foe for a foe…within the eye of the storm lay dormant…slip in with the shadows of the night…strike unforeseen…thus within, grounds the greater harm." He summoned the strength to keep from collapsing internally swallowing his pride for the time being, his mind set. "I—I pledge my loyalty to…your sovereignty, my Lord." Kumori felt as if he'd swallowed the contents of a poisonous vial._

_The dark horned creature placed a hand on his shoulder. "Very well. Now rise! Kumori of Shadou-sei! There is much to do before you begin your first mission as my underling. Come!" _

_The Ice Lord motioned for his other subordinate to step forth. A large bulky pink creature motioned for him to follow leading him along yet another set of corridors and into an even larger ship than the Saiyans had transported him in. There, they carried him off…off into the pits of hell crueler than he ever thought to exist, crueler than the elaborate imagination his 12-year-old mind could take, to serve unwillingly, the master that should have been the creator of all horrors. _

- - - - - - - - - 

Bulma cracked open a heavy somnolent eyelid trying to read the blurred red digits flicking of the timer on the nightstand. She stretched for the familiar warmth of the solid figure, which should have been occupying the vacant space alongside her. _He sure wasted no time ducking out this morning._ She had been eager in asking Vegeta about the whole helmet incident. However, due to his habitual aloof nature, all she'd gotten out of him was a diversion in the only other way he knew how to spurn off any civil conversation that would take place between them. He'd baited her every time knowing very well that her strong will would not let her silence the rampant storm that seized her quick igniting temper. As much as he aggravated her, knew every wrong string to pull to send her in a fiery rage…she could never resist him. No matter how much she tried, how hard she would struggle against him…against her own yearning cries for him.

She trampled over a mound of clothing, kicking one of Vegeta's boots across the bathroom floor. _You would think he'd learn to clean up after himself._ She shoved aside the pile of clothing adding her own clothes to the bundle. Turning on the showerhead, she tilted her head back letting the sprinkles of water pour down her face and make their way down the rest of her sore muscles. She closed her eyes in thought stroking her still flat stomach.

It had dawn on her for the longest time, how things have a way of twisting themselves in unexpected ways. From the moment she'd learned to walk, all she'd ever wanted to do was built—her fascination growing to inventing and seeking out new knowledge. As she grew older, her mind expanded like a flowing wave in a torrent, crashing down with violent force with each new idea that formed from her imagination. Reaching the point were she had surpassed even her father, Dr. Brief—a highly respected genius in his own right, at only 16 years old. With her father's great financial success in the invention of the Dino Capsules, she'd grown into a very comfortable life, spoiled into getting everything she desired. Most could say she had it all—brains, wealth, and beauty.

But they were not enough. Bulma needed something more, something that no amount of money and knowledge could buy. When she discovered the dragonball in her attic and of its mystical tale, she set off to explore the world. Hoping to find that something that could satisfy her emptiness despite everything she had. In her journey, she'd found Yamcha, her first love. She thought they would get married and stay together for the rest of their lives—a typical girl's dream of a happy fulfilling life. She'd been wrong.

Then came Vegeta…

His snobbish arrogant attitude annoyed her, acting as if the world had to serve his every need. Their tempers clashing like a pair of tornados swirling around each other ready to tear the other to shreds. There was another side to Vegeta, a side she almost missed at first glance. In their many arguments, she began to notice his intellect as they exchanged their daily verbal sparring match. Their arguments had become a game of wits, a game she began to enjoy. It didn't go unnoticed that he too enjoyed the verbal brawls.

When Marai Trunks warned Goku of the androids, all the boys began to train. Again, she found herself alone, the feeling of emptiness choking up her senses. After the drama with Yamcha and the constant feeling of loneliness, her trail kept leading her to Vegeta. He was there, when she fell apart after the breakup. In the late hours of night, when she stayed up working on one of her many projects, he was there.

Another trait Bulma noticed was his strong dedication to any goal he set. Her father had built a gravity chamber in the space pod Goku'd used to travel to Namek. Vegeta trained within its capsulated walls to the point of sere madness. She learned everything Vegeta did he put such an intense dedication it awed her—a rare trait among most. _Intensity indeed, _she chuckled remembering the night before as kinky images swirled her mind. Her mother pointed out in her loopy-sided ways that a man with that much dedication to anything was definitely husband material. The idea baffled her at first. _How could she even consider being with someone as violent and egocentric as he?_ He tried destroying Chikyuu, for Kami's sake. Not to mention killed a few of her friends. Oh, how the heart betrays the mind. He wasn't unattractive, she admitted. His face and body sculpted like a bronze Roman statue, muscles chiseled to perfection. But it was his eyes that captivated her interest, those deep coal colored soulful eyes. They spoke volumes.

One night, Bulma had enough. She was tired of the constant loneliness. She was tired of all the arguments, tired of the sexual tension building up between them. She began with a tease…

_She had finished her work for the night, striding off to the kitchen where he stood among the shadows of the dim lit room waiting for his meal. The moon cast a blue luminous glow. Instead of the usual retort for him to get his own food, she took a container from the fridge, picking a small slice of roast beef. She dangled the piece of meat close to his lips tracing his jaw line with her fingertips. He hesitated before swallowing it down intrigued by this new game. She fed him again, this time tracing a finger down his back. He sighed in what seemed like relief then stiffened as if he had touched a live wire. Growing bolder, Bulma leaned close to his ear brushing her lips on his lobe and whispered, "Like some more?" _

_Vegeta stared at her for the longest time many mixed emotions playing across his pupils. They harden, not missing her hidden meaning, "foul woman, as if I would ever…" His breath quickened._

_She hid her disappointment replacing it with anger. "Fine!" She threw the plastic container in his face. _

_He swatted the tray away grabbing her raised arm pinning her against the fridge. "You wench," he drew closer their faces literally a breath apart. "Maybe I should teach you a lesson." _

"_Let go of me!" She spat trying to claw her way free as he tightened his grip raising both her arms above her head. Despite his roughness, he did not hurt her. _

_His eyes bore into hers glowing ominous from the moonlight's reflection. They soften slightly and he loosened his hold. His lust betrayed him. With his free hand, he ran shaky fingers through her blue mane caressing the back of her neck. "You should not bait things that can bite you back." He let go of her arms as a slight shiver ran through her backbone._

_Bulma wrapped a leg around his waist. "What makes you think I can't handle little old you?" Heat radiated between their meeting points. _

_He smirked, "We'll see about that." He lifted her by the hips an overanxious hand feeling up her short skirt and carried her to her room. They undressed in a feverish scurry wanting skin touching skin. He plunged inside her leaving her gasping in the wake of pleasure it stimulated. _

_He moved—_

A wave of nausea crept up her throat. She rushed out the shower empting her stomach's content into the toilet bowl. She steadied her shaking form taking a few deep breathes before composing herself. _She should have kept her mind on present things such as how was she going to tell him..._ She slipped into a red tank top and shorts catching her reflection in the mirror. Her face shone pale and withdrawn. There were bags under her eyes. Vegeta had indeed given her that night exactly what she'd been searching for. He was a wildcard as best—his maddening obsession to strength, and the brutish Saiya-jin ways he latched out made him so unpredictable. Yet, it was his unpredictability, which intrigued her the most.

Bulma continued down to her lab preparing mentally for the task of fixing the helmet. She spotted the discarded piece of gadget, not looking forward to the countless hours she'd have to labor over its restoration. As she lifted the helmet, the visor sprung off its hinges an idea formulating in her mind. She could compress all the circuitry and add a router to replace the wiring. That way, there would be more freedom for the user. Only one problem, the computer was fried and the data with the wavelengths she needed to make the helmet work were no longer on record. _She'll just have to do something about that. _She leaped up with renewed energy, heading to the giant lot of Capsule Corps' finest manufactured aircrafts and automobiles. Boarding a hovercraft, she took off with a renew determination.

A few hours later, she landed on the hilly tops of a rich green terrain. Looking in the far distance, she found a small cream-colored dome shaped house, the same place where the adventures of her life began—Goku's childhood home. It didn't take her long before she spotted her long time childhood friend.

"Hey, Bulma, how's it going?" he greeted her approaching form levitating down from his meditating state. He remained cross-legged only cracking open one eye.

"Goku, there you are. Think I could borrow that head of yours for a sec?" _No point wasting time._

"My head?" He scratched the back of his black wild spiked hair. "What on Earth for?"

"It's for one of my latest projects. I managed to create a device that works like your 'Instant Transmission'. The only problem is I sort of…lost the data on it."

"And you need my head because…?" He looked more terrified than confused.

"Whenever you use your technique, 'your head' gives off a signal that tells your body to dematerialize to travel as a mass of light, right? I have to record those signals so I can simulate them into my computer."

"Gosh, Bulma, I don't know. I still have some more train—" Goku jumped back at the increased volume of her voice.

"What is with you Saiyans? All you ever want to do is train. It's like nothing exists outside your world of fighting. Will it kill you to take a five minute break?"

He had a feeling her little experiment would take a lot more than five minutes of his time. "Alright, alright, calm down. After I'm done with today's session, I'll stop by Capsule Corp and you do all the recording you need." He sat back down on the grass.

She pulled him back up by the collar of his blue Gi shirt. "I need that data right now. I can't wait all day for you to finish training."

"I'd love to help but I—"

"Oh come on, Goku." An idea fluxed from the back of her mind, "how about this, if you let me study your head for two hours, I'll convince Vegeta to spar with you after I'm done with the recordings."

"Really? You think he'll do it. I know how discrete he is with his training." His face lightened with excitement, his eyes beaming with delight.

"Are you forgetting it's me you're talking to? I can convince him to do anything." _Well, not quite, but Vegeta wouldn't turn down a fight with his rival._

"Alright, you got yourself a deal." Goku shook her hand as to seal the deal and transported them to Capsule Corp anxious to resume his training.

- - - - - - - - - -

Kumori snapped back to awareness when the sensors to his vessel stirred him from his haunting past as he inferred to pay the warning no concern. He barely remembered anything before his early childhood. Most memories were too painful to rear on for too long. Lately, bits and pieces of his fragmented past were puzzling together forming the redundant images of himself, he had lost long ago. If he had ever known, what pain and suffering were…? Nothing could have prepared him for what became of him after this mark of revelations that began to unfold upon his coveting taste for vengeance. He'd thought his services in the Ice Lord's liege would aid his retribution to his kind. It only brought forth unruly consequences. Calling them a living hell was an understatement accounting for all the torments and slaughters he had undergone. The cruelty of life reined on him and he simply could not figure out why. _Why him? What had he ever done back then to make him deserve such an awful adversity?_ He scorned bitterly pushing all memory away from his thoughts.

"Father, I have let you down," he voiced regrettably at the turn his life had reached. The Saiya-jin world had gone long ago, destroyed ironically in the same manner as they had annihilated his own. Some Saiya-jins had outlasted the grand finale of their world and gotten sucked into Frieza's band. He had tried once to extinguish their remaining kind in a deceitfully arranged strike mission, which ended up backfiring causing a very brutal mini-war between him and some affiliates of the Ginyu squad. Since then, his enemies spun in multiples, from all sides.

After Frieza's tyranny broke down, rumors told it was the hand of a lone Saiyan, which lay responsible for the Ice Lord's death. A golden warrior with immense strength even greater than that of the mighty Ice Lord had shred him to pieces. It was the same legendary warrior whom the Saiya-jins believed would surface every thousand years—the same warrior Frieza had feared would overpower him. Kumori searched high and low scanning all the regions of Frieza's old territories for any wonderers only to surface empty-handed. The handful that survived remained scattered about the universe unbeknown of their existence. It was as if their kind had disappeared off the face of the universe. As much joy as the thought brought forth, he could not be content in not knowing if there really were any Saiyans left alive.

The sensors' alarms began to beep uncontrollably just in time for his small vessel to swipe the course of the wandering remains of scrap parts. He dodged through the scrap yard's heart only to come in collision with a straying mass chunk of metal. The vessel screeched to a violent halt as the grinding sound of metal-to-metal sliced his ears. Kumori launched the vessel forward the engines amercing him with more grinding. _What in blazes had he hit? _He shut off the engine checking the scanners for the first time since the alarms had gone off. _Bloody hell_, he had sailed straight into the bridge of a larger ship. Most of the controllers where still intact, reckoning he just rammed a whole vessel through them. A semi portion of the control room reared as if a giant blade had sliced up the missing half of its counterpart. Slipping on an oxygen preserver, he floated out onto the broken down bridge inspecting for any damage to his craft. A few dents and scratches were present here and there but nothing the ship could manage. Convinced his vessel was in safe conditions, he began exploring around the larger ship seeking for anything useful he could salvage.

There was something vaguely familiar to the layout of the ship. The circular form of the bridge, the half remainder of the control room and even the outer designs wedged on the metal coverings reminded him of thousands of other ships he had traveled in. _Had he been here before?_ He rummaged through a small compartment hidden deep beneath the pilot's seat. It contained piles of documents, a tiny medical kit, which he pocketed, a few data discs and…a scouter! Kumori flinched at the wisp of memory it rekindled. _No! He would not turn away, not now, not ever again!_

A debilitating wave of bone-chilled eeriness swept through his backbone striking him with the force of a ton of bricks. He trembled and sagged down to his knees unable to endure its might. The wave seized through every nerve ending, every synapse, and every fiber of his being sizzling in a traveling electrical current of power. It whiplash the nicks and folds of his brain until it caused him to convulse into a delirium. His mind's eye began to construct the missing pieces of the ruin ship. Rubble, metal, screws and bolts bended and reshaped into the great space cruiser it once had been. The shell of the passengers flickered in and out of visibility. The clock rewind little by little dawning on a time of yore.

Kumori rose from the squatting position he had been in moments earlier. _He was no longer a man but a child barely reaching the peak of adolescence._

_He dusted off the dirt from his black tinted suit shifting the weight of the tool kit in his hand to the other as he impatiently waited for the chief engineer to grant his dismissal. Sounds of working drills and wrenches echoed within the passageway. The repairs to the fuse box were taking forever, he thought wearily as his gaze began to wonder around the narrow corridor. He'd rather take on another purge mission than be waiting on these stupid technical geeks all day long. Most of the soldiers in the base were on standby due to an urgent matter Frieza was handling with one of the slave worlds up in Kusuri-sei. Word was they were adding a new recruit to the medical staff—a very important asset if Frieza himself was dealing with the terms. His attention turned towards the sliding of the door to the training quarters. Out emerged a young boy a tail wrapped around his waist followed closely by an elder man who also bore a tail. Saiyans he figured with despise clutching the toolbox's handle even harder willing down his heated storm of hatred for their kind. He fought the urge to strike them on the spot. _

_The younger boy wore the standard blue suit covered by a white and gold-plated armor engraved with the symbol of the Elite soldiers. That little tike was Elite! He couldn't be any older than six maybe seven years old. A few yards away, the little boy lean against the wall next to the medical bay's door, his arms were crossed a bored expression playing on his hard-set face. Kumori toned in on the fiery debate rising from the two._

_The older Saiyan shrieked in earnest, "But, Prince Vegeta, Master Frieza won't be so thrilled waiting in on him like this. Wait until he settles in and returns to the royal quart—" _

"_I don't remember asking your opinion, Nappa!" Chibi Vegeta scolded at the older man. "If you think it's such a bad idea then leave, nobody's forcing you to stay."_

"_But…Oujisama, I don't think you should—"_

"_Why the hell did you follow me here if it bothers you so?"_

"_I'm sorry, I was only tryin'—"_

"_Piss off! This is none of your concern!" Vegeta struck the wall beside him causing a small ripple throughout the corridor's foundation. _

"_Y—yes, my Prince," the older Saiyan backed away into the training quarters with as much dignity as he could save. _

_A wire sprang lose from the impact causing the lights to flicker on and off a bit. Quickly without protest, the chief engineer reconnected the fuses as the other worker rechecked the power meters, restoring everything back to working order. None could afford for the power to short-circuit, again, it would mean their heads if it did. Kumori shot daggers at the Saiyan child. He slammed the tool kit on the floor not missing the opportunity to start a quarrel with a Saiyan. _

"_Kumori," the engineer warned in his ear placing a restraining hand on his shoulder eyeing the younger boy nervously, "I advice not to stir up any trouble with that one, he is a bit shall we say unstable." _

"_Tsk, and just let him get away with that." He swatted the hand away pressing on. "Hey, kid!" he strode over to the boy._

_The small boy's head snapped up, stiffing from the position on the wall. Vegeta narrowed his eyes dangerously already sensing the upcoming brawl. _

"_Look what—" Kumori peered closer at the younger boy's face. The long spiked black hair and the coal colored eyes, they were a miniature replica of the savage beast that had killed his mother. Then, it hit him. _

"_You…" he conveyed softly recognizing exactly who the boy was. Kumori pulled the small boy up by the shirt shaking him with every word. "You were there! You were there when my homeworld was destroyed. You're the reason why the Shadou-jins are all dead! You're the reason why my mother was…burn to ash." He swallowed down the lump contracting his airway. "You're…" Everything he had pent up, all the anger, all the hatred for the Saiyan-jins, the hatred for himself at all the brutal things he'd been force to do coursed forth on his sentiments paralyzing him with rage and pain. _

_The boy aimed a punch at Kumori's face catching him square in the jaw shaking himself off the older boy's grip. He staggered backwards stunned at the strength the tiny boy possessed. _

"_Who the hell you think you are—touching me like that?" Vegeta said arrogantly taking a fighting stance readying for the bigger kid's counteraction. _

_Kumori clutched his stinging jaw, "Shit, you filthy thickheaded savage monkey!" He swung blindly at the younger boy only to have his fist slash through vacant air. _

_Vegeta groan in fury. He phased in behind the older boy, jumping on his back pounding on his head with all his might. Once he recovered from the blows, Kumori morphed his body through the rays of light vanishing into shades of darkness. Vegeta fell through the spot where Kumori once stood flopping onto the shiny metal floor. He resurfaced above the small Saiya-jin pinning his chest down with the heel of his boot. The adjacent door from the medical bay swished open converting Kumori's attention to postpone his attack. Vegeta ceased the chance to swipe the back of Kumori's leg knocking the older boy off his feet and onto the ground beside him. Before either boy could make their next move, the course of power that swelled their senses caused them both to freeze in their assault. _

_"My, my, aren't we lively today?" Frieza stood before them intrigued by the sight of the younger soldiers' dismay. The two boys composed themselves sheepishly rising to their feet and bowing to perform the formal greeting to the Ice Lord. The other two engineers, who had long since abandoned their task to the fuse box bowled as well. _

_Kumori caught the flowing hue of crimson-coated hair. Slightly behind the Ice Lord, a young girl timidly awaited. The sight of her full visage nearly sapped his breath away. Never in his years had he seen a being with such an exquisitely angelic elegance. He met her stare enchanted within the depths of her lovely cress green eyes. She looked away flushed folding her hands behind her back. _

_Frieza gazed at the group expectantly. "Well?" Apparently, he hadn't been the only one to notice the girl's presence. The others gape on in either admiration or curiosity. "Set your jaws back in place and report your assignments unless you all rather I rip them permanently out of their sockets." _

_The chief engineer hastily stepped up to report their status, "My Lord, the repairs to the power fuse are all set. Some of the regulators still have a few tinks to work out but everything should be working smoothly. We will have them online as soon as possible."_

"_Good. Make haste on those repairs. I expect nothing less." _

"_Yes, my Lord." The engineers proceeded with their task. _

_Frieza turned towards the young girl. "Come, child, there is much we must discuss before you can settle in to your first assignment." He escorted her into the medical bay. Just as he had done to the many thousands others, just as he'd done when he first arrived. Kumori stared dejectedly after their retreating forms. Such a delicately beautiful creature shouldn't have to be in this God forsaken hellhole._

_While strolling after the Ice Lord, the Saiyan boy shouted over his shoulder, "Next time, you won't be so lucky!" _

_He almost forgot about the little twerp! "Yeah, as if I were afraid of a toddle—" he shot back before being silenced by the chief engineer's hand on his mouth. _

"_I've told you not to mess with that one, you really are lucky to be alive, my friend," the engineer said after the boy's departure. "Do you not know who that boy was? He's the strongest of his kind not even full grown and already stronger than half the other soldiers here."_

"_Yeah, yeah, I know who he is. I can handle it!" Kumori shrugged nonchalantly but on the inside, he was blaring with rage. "Are we done here?"_

_The engineer stopped stocking one of the drills in its place concern written across his feature. "Kumori…"_

"_I said I can handle it!" He stormed off not bothering with his unfinished job._

"_Ok, don't say I didn't warn you." _

_That was the last time he came to face with the scrawny beige skinned master tech who had become the closes thing to a friend he had ever dared to allow_.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Maijuh sat on the worn hard wooden chair placed in front of a new undamaged desk, the piles of scrolls swaying from their greater heights. He flicked back the loose strands of hair poking at his stress-filled hazel eyes. Among the large stacks of papers, one scroll in particular stared back at him mockingly, almost in a scorn. _It was not the same_, he told himself, _but the circumstances were similar_. In an occupation such as the monitoring of fate, the running of different bad case scenarios—coincidence was not a thing to take lightly. King Yemma, in the aid to prevent the unbalance and near destruction of the universe, which that infamous Buu character would have unleashed, unloaded on him the very long charges the Saiyan Prince laid claim. No living being, with such a record could have obtained their physical body after death. A privilege rewarded only to the good souls, the few who were downright exceptional. Yet, here he was cleaning up after Yemma's mess…again. For the many exceptions that Yemma made, Maijuh had to find another way to make up for them.

It was an uneven scale, tilting back and forth in a balancing act. The Saiyan was a piece of work in itself, a quicksilver bullet waiting to shoot out of his barrel with the slightest pull of pressure. Any side could corrupt him into joining the other— the darker side in particular. Maijuh jumped at the proceeding echoes of footfalls on the transparent glass floor.

"Actually working hard, I see." The old man cringe his wrinkled golden face in sarcasm.

_Yeah, sure, I simply sit around staring at all these piles of paper growing bigger each day._ "Kosan," he gritted his teeth in disdain, "what do you want?" Maijuh slammed the scroll down.

"Now, now, no need to get all frisked about it. I'm sure your department can be productive when it needs be." Kosan paced around the desk stopping over Maijuh's shoulder. "…and may I ask why this particular subject deserves such interest?"

"I would not expect the likes of you to understand," Maijuh retorted, fists tight underneath the dark blue sleeves of his garment.

"It's an open and close case! Someone like that couldn't possibly make such a drastic change over that extendable period of time. It is too deeply integrated within his nature. We are talking about a lifetime of conditioned slaying—a perfect killing machine without a conscience." Kosan plucked the scroll from among the others skimming it briefly.

"I disagree. I saw it…in his eyes. He may not show it on the surface, but from the inside he regrets his youth, his entire past, his old beliefs are recoiling before him, a little more each day." Maijuh snatched the scroll away.

The old man commenced pacing around the desk folding his hands behind his back. "A simple trigger could reverse those effects back to the way he used to be. Do you not remember what he's to become, what he's destined to represent?"

"It is but a rumor in which has yet to occur. For all we know it may never happen, it may as well be an excess farce, a test of his goodwill. Those charges don't just disappear without a cost."

"That's exactly my point!" Kosan struck the desk with both palms. "All those lives…the annihilation of whole hunks of galaxies, such record doesn't go unjustified."

Maijuh swayed some of the papers from falling over. "Does his amends merit to nothing for you?"

"It's against our marker to interfere with any mortal's fate no matter what the case!"

"Hey, you know me. I don't like to play by the rules." He leaned back tilting the chair to float against the air.

Kosan seized his arm pulling him back down to ground level. "It will cost you greatly! You are playing a dicey game waging on a cold-blooded killer. His probabilities are too high. Even now he's set at a vulnerable stage."

Maijuh shook him off. "I'll take my chances." He grabbed from the drawer a white headband engraved in gold with the symbol of infinity.

"We don't bid in overbearing chances. You should know that better than anyone."

"That's your bid, not mine." He straighten the headband on his forehead, "well, if you would excuse me. I actually have some of that hard work to attend to, you know, the one you think I slacked off." Maijuh walked through the rows of ticking clocks.

"The girl…" Maijuh froze at the old man's words, "is she the reason for your sudden faith?"

_Damn the old bastard presuming he knew everything._ "That is of no concern to you, old man!" Maijuh faded into shadows down the endless void.

"Fool! The grips of evil have lashed themselves on too tight on that mortal's heart. It will never let him go…once evil will forever remain evil." Kosan went off unbeknown of the other silhouette figure creeping in the void.

* * *

DBZ & characters (c) Akira Toriyama

Original Characters (c) Yashy M.


	3. Chapter 3 Maijuh Plans

**Warning:** Though the language is somewhat mild, some of the content on this fic such as strong violence, sex, & even a rape scene are not suitable for younger readers. Read with care!

Note: This story will start to earn its rating from this point on. If the subjects of rape and molestation bother you, turn away now! You've been warned…

And a big thanks to all my readers, reviewers, and whatnot. You are my inspiration.

* * *

**Debts Unpaid**

By: Yashy22m

Part I

Chapter 3

Uranai Baba darted through the yellow brick path that lead to King Yemma's check-in station, scanning for a particular "essence" buried among the everlasting wave of bodiless souls awaiting their purgatory. She balanced her weight on her clear-cut crystal ball floating down to King Yemma's massive desk. The chaotic buzz of the horned creatures that kept some semblance of order among the spirits' line overflowed the airy hut. A deviant spirit amongst the crowd broke from the check in line skidding off the path's edge, merciless hands sucking it into the pits of hell. She sighed straightening her tall dark peeked hat, "_Another lost soul."_

King Yemma smashed an oversized fist on the desk's wooded finish, "What baka threw his chances to fair in hell's mercy?"

"Yemma!" She evaded the blue-skinned horned servant sprinting to investigate the soul's abduction. "What do you know of Maijuh's latest plans?"

"Why hello to you too, Baba", Yemma ushered the next essence to be judged. He scribbled a few words into the mortals' records.

"Spare me the pleasantries, what is Maijuh's plan for Vegeta's charges?"

"Oh, you know about those." Yemma placed his red pencil behind an ear stamping the initial red mark of heaven.

"Of course I know. I didn't bring the Saiya-jin body down Snake's path for my own health."

He rolled back vexed eyes. "I don't know what Maijuh's planning for Vegeta's charges. All I know is he needs to balance them out and he needs them balanced out now."

"Are the rumors true then?"

Yemma groaned low. "The warrior of death hasn't been sited in twenty centuries. What makes you think he's to come back now?"

"I believe it for that exact reason. The dark aura's already swelling up, waiting, gaining strength with every negative energy. And I think Maijin will have something to do with unleashing it." Her eyes darken over with dread.

"The man means well. He wouldn't stake the chances without considering the consequences first." Yemma grabbed another book from the many in stock. "I know this from personal experience," he stated more to himself than to the elderly petite fortuneteller.

"He's already made contact with the Saiyan Prince."

"Yes I know of Vegeta's presence in the outer realm. Maijuh asked to bring him there. He fears the balance in the universe is at risk if he hadn't." He stamped another paper.

"But isn't he interfering with the Saiyan's fate?"

"Not necessarily, he simply gave him a warning as a way to coerce him in the right direction." He waved for the following spirit, "Next!"

"It's still interfering." She crossed her arms in a pout.

"I don't see the harm in his actions. The North Kai warns Son Goku all the time of any upcoming dangers in the universe. It's always been done in good faith." He wiped the sweat off his brow, "saves me from the lot of headaches."

"The North Kai doesn't report Goku's fate like a fortune cookie."

King Yemma snorted. _How ironic coming from a fortuneteller?_ "How is that any different from your line of work?"

"I speak of riches, romance, and lost possessions; none have anything to do with a mortal's whole existence."

He exhaled sharply. "Baba, what do you suppose I do, stop him? As long as he doesn't exceed his boundaries. I say let him be."

"I feel a lot of heartache could be avoided if it weren't for his tactics."

"Well, that's something that can't be helped." A thunderous crash echoed outside the hut's walls. A few dozen horned creatures scrambled about the entrance. "What now?" He banged the desk again causing the monster piles of records to fall over. _This was definitely not his day._

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vegeta sat in the middle of the gravity room's tiled floor flexing his palm, testing the extent of his power on a tense fist. Sparking Ki energy between his fingertips, he snarled at the dull force they emitted. Turning the gravity machine off, he dried the sweat off his face. His headache hadn't lessened moving to the back of his skull like pinpointed stabs of pain. The effort to concentrate was becoming intolerable. He craved a retreat into the warm comfort of his woman's arms. Only in his black sweatpants, he strolled over to the bedroom, not surprised to find it empty. Changing routes, he rode down to the labs. The immense room stood dark, quiet, desolated from any of its usual buzzing life. One lone beam of light trailed from the back of the vast basement. He opened the sliding door to Bulma's personal lab. Upon entering the room, he caught the stir of movement. The sight of his "woman" in the third class Saiya-jin's arms simmered the blood through his veins.

"Kakarot," the name vibrated in his throat, "five seconds till I rip your retched hands off my mate."

Goku's eyes widened as he looked down at the sleeping face of the blue hair beauty. "Oh hey Vegeta, she exhausted herself on one of her little experiments." He shifted her weight towards Vegeta's expectant arms.

He snatched her away, "What are you doing here?" _And why hadn't he sensed his Ki signature?_

"Bulma asked me here. She wanted to use my head to record some data for her new gadget." Goku grabbed what appeared to be a pair of thick metallic digital sunglasses. "See. They're quite nifty if you want to travel places, just like my Instant Transmission. I'm sure you'll like 'em."

The moron's perkiness was making him ill or was it his spinning head? He groaned in frustration, "As if I care about that piece of rubbish." Walking towards the sliding door, he added, "Get out."

"Uh, wait!"

Vegeta stopped not bothering to turn around.

"Before I agreed to help on her project, we sort of made a deal."

"Well, spit it out." He was starting to feel nauseous.

Goku swirled his index fingers together. "She promised me a sparring match with you."

He looked into the younger Saiyan's innocent dark eyes and saw no maliciousness there. The nerve of the woman, to gamble on him… "You challenge me in a sparring match?"

"Sure, why not? It's been a while we don't duke it out, not since Buu…" he trailed off recalling the pudgy pink creature. "Besides, I could sure use the workout."

_Is that what the fool thought of him, a mere workout?_ He clenched the side of Bulma's arm. She stirred in her discomfort. He would show the brainless baka, how much of a workout he'd get. "Fine, tomorrow at the break of day."

"Alright, oh, and Vegeta?" Goku's expression turned grim. "Can you sense it, the dark presence? It's like…" He paused for the right words, "a prickly feeling in the back of my neck I haven't been able to shake since yesterday."

_So it wasn't his imagination, he had sensed it as well._ "But there's no one stronger in the universe, someone with such an innumerable amount of Ki?"

"It's not Ki I felt. It's something more. I can't put my finger on what it could be." His stomach growled its objections. "But enough about that, I'm starving. Chichi hates when I'm late for dinner." Goku rubbed his stomach sheepishly.

Vegeta strung a few curses between grit teeth. _Why did he even bother?_ "It astounds me how the inner workings of your mind heed only from your stomach."

"Right. See you later and…don't forget to congrats her for me...same to you." Goku winked raising two fingers to his temple leaving no traces of his presence behind.

He scowled in puzzlement. Vegeta looked down on the peaceful façade of the blue haired woman in his arms. He cradled her higher up against his chest and rode his way back up to their bedroom. Placing her on their bed, he peeled the greasy lab coat off her along with the rest of her garments. Upon her porcelain face, smears of oil and dirt covered the delicate crevasses of her skin. He drew them a bath in the whirlpool tub in the adjacent bathroom, stripping down his clothes. He knelt beside the bed tracing the contours of her jaw. She turned in her sleep, her back against him. Kissing the back of her neck, Bulma woke slowly.

"Filthy little thing," he lifted her once more carrying her to the warm bubbling bath. He lowered into the water stream, placing her on his lap. Bulma sighed collapsing atop his chest in utter relaxation. He grabbed a nearby sponge lathering the recesses and fissures of her curves. Her skin tasted of sweetened salt as he nibbled her neck. She turned to him, spanning her legs around his waist. His fingers were already stroking in between her thighs when her feather-like grip cut him off. He grunted in protest.

She took a shaky breath, "Vegeta, I—uh, I'm…I'm pregnant." She searched his eyes.

He lifted her to the side rising from the tub kneeling before her abdomen. Numerous thoughts entered his mind immobilizing him like a snake's venom. A very faint fluctuation of Ki hit his perception. _What was wrong with him? How could he have missed this?!_

"I'm surprised you hadn't noticed sooner just as you had with Trunks." She ran tender fingers through his flamed spikes of hair lifting his chin up to lock glares. His reflected worry…no more like sere terror.

"How long have you known?"

"I just found out."

"How long?" He stood up to near hysterics.

"…a few days ago."

"You tell me this now!" His Ki swelled, the intensity in his headache causing him to grab the edge of the tub.

"I've been so caught up with the transporting device. Then the explosion and you passing out…"

He shrugged off her touch on his arm not missing the hurt in her eyes.

"Since when has that mattered anyway, so long as you know?" Bulma stepped back from his hunched form.

_Since he felt his sanity derailing._ "You fear me? Of my objections to another brat?"

She bit her lower lip. "No."

"You lie."

"No…It's just, it took me by surprise. I hadn't planned on another child, not at this point anyway. But I guess things tend to happen in these times of peace."

A pensive hand stroked her stomach. "You want to keep it then?"

"Of course I do! …I'm just scared."

He grabbed her waist pressing her to him. "I'm the Saiyan no Oji from a proud mighty warrior race—who teeters on the brink of near extinction. I welcome any heir you bear, for I will protect it by every inch of strength within my possession."

If the world only witnessed what she did in the rarity of these moments. She gave a wicked grin. "Care for a repeat of how one and two came to be?"

He chuckled throatily, "Silly onna." …_a second brat_. He would not fail, not to his duties to them, not like the last time.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Many centuries ago when he roamed among the world of the living, Maijuh was known as the "degenerator," a crude merciless assassin who lived off his strive to kill. However, there was a catch to his system of operations—the target laid submerged in evil. Some thought of him as the hand of hard iron justice, while others…saw only the murderous bloodshed of his kills. He dealt with the worse of deaths, dragging it agonizingly slow, painful, being fully aware and yet utterly helpless.

Like all things, no bad deed was left unjustified. His too brutish ways came back to repay him. He worked so hard to keep his family life and his dark hobby apart, from ever intercrossing each other. They had no honor…his wife was the first victim, brutally raped and tortured by the same group of men whose leader he'd taken out hours earlier. Then his daughter…his little girl….he could never erase her image out of his mind. Her tiny body torn from limb to limb—_Monsters!_ When the order from the afterlife came after his mortal life ended, he had the choice to erase his memories from his past living, all to ease his torment. Nevertheless, he couldn't erase them. He would not. A large part of who he was would be lost along with those memories. Besides, it would serve him well as a reminder of all his sins.

Maijuh emerged from the shadows of the darkened mansion. Taking a deep breath, he strode through the hall of Capsule Corp's sleeping quarters pausing before the Prince's bedroom door. "Shessh! Don't those two ever need a break? They're worst than bunnies." He could hear their lovemaking right through the steeled walls.

"Hey!" Adolescent's voice trailed behind him.

He turned to find a bright surge of energy directed at his face.

"You picked the wrong household to mess with buddy." Trunks edged closer to the strange man, Ki readied.

"Oh, so you're _his_ son. Didn't realize he had one." Maijuh flicked his Ki away with the mere use of two fingers.

"What?!" Trunks backed away taking a fighting stance. "Who are you?" Ki energy had no effect on him.

With hastened speed, he tapped the boy's temple, "Don't worry kid," catching him as he fell unconscious. "Who I am is irrelevant. I'm merely a figment of your imagination." Maijuh cradled the lavender hair boy up in his arms and tucked him into what he assumed what the boy's bed as if nothing had taken place. The child might complicate things, he thought to himself.

"You will play your role in due time." He closed the boy's bedroom door. After being rewarded with complete silence, he continued with his antics. He transformed into the primal sea snake of his kind, slipping through the crack beneath the Saiyan's bedroom door. The couple lay entangled beneath a pile of sheets. He could hear the loud unladylike snoring of the Chikyuu-jin female under the Saiyan's arms. The Saiyan Prince disentangled himself from the woman's hold heading for the bathroom. Maijuh took his chance to face the Prince. He slid by his feet changing back into his human form only after the Saiya-jin had shut the door.

Vegeta jumped back swinging a defensive fist on reflex. "You again." He grabbed a pair of boxers on the floor pulling them on.

Maijuh leaned next to the shiny porcelain sink. "Well, it seems I've made quite an impression on your liking."

"What do you want?" Vegeta took a protective stance in front of the door.

"You settled into a rather peaceful life here, much more than I thought possible." He poked at one of the useless knickknacks aside the cup of toothbrushes, "Least for someone of your nature. Cute kid by the way."

Vegeta schooled his face clasping his fists to his side. "What do you know of my nature?" He closed his eyes, searching for his son's Ki finding it strong and steady.

"See, back in the Spirit World, we don't get to see a mortal's personal lifestyle. Only the Kais have access to that knowledge. I wanted to see first hand what I was dealing with." He walked over to the shower astounded by the size of the tub.

Vegeta eyed the odd man like a lion ready to pounce on its prey.

Maijuh propped down on the center of the tub. "So have you made your decision?"

"Decision?"

"Don't tell me you forgot already." He nearly fell over the edge of the tub.

"I'm not sacrificing the lives of my mate or my sons—er…my kin!" Vegeta struck the doorframe behind him.

"Ok, we'll take this one step at a time." He steadied himself on the tub's rim. "If you swear to me right here and now, not to kill another living soul. I will help you beat the creature that I'd warned you about, without having to sacrifice your family's life. I know you can sense his presence drawing near." He leveled an icy stare with the Prince.

"What makes you think I want your help?" Vegeta narrowed his eyes inching closer to the other man having the strong urge to snap him in half.

"You are strong, but your strengths have its limits. You're a mere mortal with every ounce of its flaws." He rested his elbows on the brim.

"I'm the Saiyan no Oji, the strongest in the universe! I can beat any foe that comes my way!" His Ki swelled around him.

Maijuh gave a humorless smirk. "Brute strength is not the only path to victory. It'd be wise to remember that fact."

Vegeta howled in rage powering up to the brink of Super Saiyan shattering every mirror and glass around him. And just as quickly it stopped. All his energy sapped away like a burnt out candle.

Maijuh held a finger against the Saiya-jin's temple. "I was just like you once."

Vegeta sagged to his knees paralyzed from the restraint to his powers. "What...what have you done to me?" He panted with the effort it took to stand up right.

"Don't be a fool. Your pride will only get in the way." The aquatic man stepped over shards of glass.

"Why are you doing this?" His legs felt like putty.

"She is quite precious to you, isn't she?"

"You—you son of bitch, leave her out of this." Vegeta fought to stay conscious. "…has nothing to do with any of it."

"Cherish what's most precious to you before it's too late." Maijuh solemnly whispered.

The darkness was too overwhelming. "I don't…I don't know how—my hands too stained in blood debts to simply wipe clean." Vegeta's vision blurred.

"This is your chance to make it all right." He offered an outstretched hand. "For their sake, if not for your own."

"I—for them, I can only try…" The Saiyan Prince collapsed on the floor before him.

_That will have to do, for now._

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_The child in Vegeta stood trembling out against the bitter cold winds waiting for a sign. The whistling sounds of the breeze blew within his ears a tuneless air of defeat. Yet, he refused to admit to himself, there were no survivors. A fierce battle had taken place hours before extinguishing every one of its participants in a bloody bath of corpses and body parts. The weight of the snow coated over most of the limbs burying the deceased underneath their frosted graves. Only he remained within the deserted fields surrounded by the red stained snow. The snowstorm began to pick up strength. Consumed in dismay, he dragged himself along the entombed path dreading his return to the base. _

_What had he done?_

_His mission was clear, 'to bring back one survivor from the world if no deals were established'. How could he have snapped like that? All he could remember was a dark fury engulfed around his senses, his vision blurring into shadows, the blinding rage taking over his being leaving his humane senses trampled in the wake of his savagery. Everything had gone blank after that. Had he transformed? No, it wasn't possible. The world of Ikannah had no phases of the moon active during this time of the year. If he did, he had learned to control his Oozaru form being able to keep his consciousness intact. The cursive winds blew to the point of slicing skin. He began to pick up his pace close to reaching the lone passenger pod. Fatigued and blinded by the snow-filled winds, an unseen limb hurled him onto the white coated ground. When he came to, a stinging pain throbbed at the side of his head. The trip back to the base scrambled about his memories._

_Vegeta evaded and elbowed his way through the masses of warriors shuffling about the base's main corridor. He had to beat word on the outcome of his last assignment, a feat made challenging due to his small four feet stature. He pummeled over another soldier's shoulder too slow for his rushing fervor. What he lacked in height and age, he made up for in strength and agility. He was a prodigy when it came down to the arts of combat. Being a prince of blood and honor by his kind, the Saiyajins—proud, strong warriors who possessed the power to transform at the sight of the full moon into giant ape-like creatures of the night. Clearly, his accomplishments, at only 10 years old, called for attention. _

_Frieza sat waiting in the throne room. Patience was not in the creature's nature, neither was mercy. Vegeta bowed down to one knee, arm crossed over his left shoulder. _

"_The planet, Ikannah is taken care of. All the preparations for its conquest are underway." _

"_The survivor?" The Ice Lord rolled an ashen finger over the brim of his wineglass. _

"_There…there are none," he raised his coal colored eyes to match the Ice Lord. _

_The wineglass crumbled to shards under his palm's pressure. _

"_And why is that?" Frieza rose from the throne, stopping in front of the boy's kneeing form._

"_I—I don't know," his mouth felt dry as sand. _

"_You don't know?" He yanked the boy up by the collar. _

_Vegeta's eyes widened from being nose-to-nose with the ice lizard, "I don't remember." _

"_I don't suppose," he poked the side of his bleeding forehead, "this has anything to do with your severed memory."_

_The boy winced wiping off his brow, "can't remember." _

"_So, did that memory of yours forget what your assignment was? I should have known you can't trust a monkey to do the job."_

_He clenched his teeth, growling in response not trusting himself to speak. He shoved the lizard's hand away mustering up more cheek than he felt._

"_Don't get cocky with me you insolent monkey. I can easily reserve another tomb for your eagerness to join the Ikannahian's rotting corpses." The lizard seized him by the throat cutting off the air from his lungs. "That little stunt you pulled will cost you greatly." Frieza released his hold on the boy's neck tilting his head up by the pull of his jet-black hair. "What shall I do with you today?"_

_Vegeta gasped in fear behind the meaning of those words._

_A malicious smile spread across the lizard's pallid features. He tried to break free from the lizard's grasp in horror at all the possibilities that rang through his mind. He could never get away when nothing was restraining him. Vegeta closed his eyes preparing for the coming assault._

_Sharp agonizing pain rose up his spine as the creature repeatedly lashed at his backside with his muscled white tail. His body convulsed with every strike. He bit down on his lip tasting blood refusing to give the lizard the satisfaction of hearing his cries. Droplets of red dripped down his back splattering to the floor below soaking him with his own blood. The pain was becoming too much… The horned white lizard seized his attack, unsatisfied with the results he received from the boy. He had not uttered a peep since he'd commenced. Vegeta hung on the threshold of losing consciousness. _

"_Well, it appears I'm being too soft on you. Am I not amusing enough to keep you awake?" He slapped the boy to full awareness. _

_He tried to speak only to let out a low whimper. No, he wouldn't let him win. "I—" his throat felt sore. "I won't let you—" _

_Frieza shoved him to the floor. Vegeta winced as he landed on his slashed back. _

_The lizard dragged him closer by his tail so they met face to face. He knelt above the boy pinning his small legs between his knees. "You won't let me, what?" He chuckled turning the boy over on his stomach. He felt the Ice lord's cold breath next to his ear, "You are entitled to me for the rest of your days by the terms of your father's contract and my pet to do as I wish." _

_Vegeta shuddered at the realization of what he no longer could deny. He tried so hard to fight him every step of the way to no avail. The Ice Lord was invincible compare to what little strength he still possessed. He tried to block out what senses he could, failing miserably, hearing the tearing of clothing, feeling the exposure of skin, the smell of his own blood. _

_Make it stop! Make it all go away! "Let me go, you sick bastard," he realized the words had escaped his lips. _

"_Oh, I can show you what a sick bastard I can be." He gripped the boy's waist straddling him from behind. _

_The unceasing pain caused him to gasp out. No longer could he contain his cries. He wept brokenly wishing for anything but this…overbearing shame. His sobs converted to near howls. He rather be beaten a thousand times over, he wished for death! _

Something grabbed his shoulders giving him a fierce shake. Soft hands steadied his face planting cool moisture on his forehead.

"Vegeta, please wake up," A feminine voice broke through his nightmare. Bulma caressed his face resulting him to calm his trembling body. She whipped the sweat off his brows kissing the side of his damp neck. He'd been shrieking like a wounded animal.

With a start, he opened his eyes. Trying to catch his breath, he ran shaky hands through his hair, the rest of body still shivering.

"Vegeta?" She forced him to look at her.

He grabbed her arm pulling her onto his half-naked form lying on the floor. He buried his face between the crook of her neck and shoulder, his heart beating like a drum solo. His death grip was cutting off her air.

"Can't breathe…"

He loosened his hold rolling her onto her back stripping their bodies down. Wordlessly, he sunk inside her, wanting to take away every rational thought in his mind if only for the moment. The sweet warmth of her innards consumed him rectifying to succulent pleasures of their beings intertwined. She objected at first, but soon gave in to his urgent need to replace the night terrors that plagued his slumber. His thrusts became maddening harder, faster. Until he came to bursting, crying out like the wounded beast she heard moments before. She shuddered beneath him, startled. For once, not wanting to know what sort of nightmare could have such strong effects on the proud Saiyan Prince. He remained inside her burying his face against her neck. She encircled his broad shoulders tracing the column of his backbone.

"I did not hurt you?" he exhaled against her neck.

She shook her head gasping back tears. Vegeta raised his head seeing small trails of blood on the floor. He followed them to the arc of her back. He froze, his breath pummeled out of him as he saw all the tiny welts of glass wedged on her skin. Some tears were from his fingernails.

She noticed his growing fear. "What's going on? You're scaring me."

He cursed at his stupidity, at his incapability to control himself. He moved her to the bed forcing her on her stomach. She began to protest.

"Quit your squirming." He barked.

She felt it then, the stinging sensation on her backside.

"There are pieces of glass stuck on your back. I am _trying_ to get them out." He focused a small dab of energy to her back, forcing the shards off her skin.

Bulma felt soothing warmth on her back as he poured a flow of energy over her wounds. "What the hell happened in there?"

"It's nothing you need to concern over." He stopped massaging her back.

"Did something attack you?"

"Forget about it." He rose from the bed.

"Damn it, Vegeta. Talk to me!" Bulma grabbed his arm.

_"Vegeta!"_ The too familiar voice of the third class Saiyan rang in his mind.

"Not now Kakarott!"

"Goku's here?" She pulled the covers around her exposed body.

"Quiet!"

"_Sorry to interrupt, but we need your help. We have a bit of a situation on our hands. Remember that creepy feeling. I think I just found its source."_

"No, I will not be quiet! I'm not just going to let—" She continued yelling over Goku's voice.

"Shut up!! You're driving me crazy." He nearly roared.

"_But, I thought you'd like to know," _came Goku's baritone

"Not you, baka. Continue."

"Who you calling baka?" She pounced on him causing him to stagger backwards, earning an unexpected yelp from the mighty Prince.

King Kai's voice joined in, "_You both must hurry! The Namek-jins are in grave danger. He's already managed to call up Porunga. It's only a matter of time before he's made his wishes."_

"Woman….you!" The sounds of a struggle ricochet through the telekinetic link between Goku and the North Kai.

"Get off, you asshole!" Bulma muffled voice called out.

"_Who is this guy?"_ Goku asked.

"_I don't know much about him. He just seemed to come out of nowhere. Please hurry. He's on his first wish!"_ King Kai pleaded.

A very loud squeal from Bulma.

"_Uh, Vegeta? Is this is bad time?"_

He sneered breathlessly pulling on his sweats, "No, I'm ready for the challenge."

* * *

This was sort of a filler chapter done it a bit of hurry. Either way I hope you guys enjoy ;p & don't worry, things will be revealed in due time.

DBZ & all its characters © Akira Toriyama

Original characters – Maijuh, Kosan, Kumori, etc. © Yashy M.


End file.
